


Calm in the Storm

by magicbubblepipe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comfort, Cuddles, M/M, Weechesters, protective!Dean, slight wincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 10:24:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicbubblepipe/pseuds/magicbubblepipe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A childhood fear still plagues Sam. Dean is still there to protect him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calm in the Storm

 Birdseye, Indiana: 1989

 

            It wasn’t the lashing of rain against the windows or the ground shaking thunder that woke Dean Winchester; it was a tiny whimper from the small mound of blankets huddled beside his bed.

            “Sammy?” he asked, resting his hand tentatively on the top of the shadowy lump.

            There was a faint rustling and then the nose and eyes of his baby brother appeared from a gap in his cocoon.  “I didn’t wanna wake you,” he said quietly.

            “What’re you doing over here, huh?” he pushed back the blankets enough to free the rest of Sam’s head, his sleep mussed mop of hair sticking up in odd directions and making Dean smile.

            The younger boy seemed reluctant to answer. It wasn’t until a particularly close strike of lightening illuminated the look of stricken fear on Sam’s face that Dean understood. “Hey c’mon, it’s just a little thunderstorm, Sam. It’s not gonna hurt you.”

            “I know that,” Sam replied with some affront. It was too dark to see the dark flush of his cheeks but Dean knew he was embarrassed.

            His father’s words echoed in Dean’s head. No matter where he was headed, the last words out of John Winchester’s mouth to his eldest boy were “watch out for Sammy”. He didn’t even have to say it; Dean just knew. Ever since he carried Sam from the fire, his lifelong duty was clear to him. Protect Sam. It was his purpose.

            So he lifted the edge of his covers and wordlessly invited his little brother into his bed. Sam curled in next to him without a sound and fell almost instantly asleep. Dean brushed the hair gently out of the younger boy’s face and placed a barely-there kiss on his forehead before dozing off himself.

 

Seattle, Washington: Present Day

 

            God, it had done nothing but rain since they got there. The storm that was raging could wake the dead. Dean had said so himself earlier in the evening. Sam had been less than amused. It wasn’t the storm keeping him up; it was the faint scent of stale cigarette smoke that still clung to the motel sheets he was lying on. That started him thinking about what else could be left over on those sheets and that thought branched off into others and now he was wide awake and staring at the ceiling with a brain that wouldn’t shut up.

            The creaking of bedsprings alerted him of Sam’s changed position. He was facing Dean now with his hands covering his ears and his face screwed up in discontent. A particularly obnoxious boom of thunder caused his whole body to flinch and he tried to curl himself into a ball.

            “Storms still bother you, Sammy?” He had to say it loud enough to be heard over the torrential rain.

            Sam’s eyes snapped open and leveled at Dean before he seemed to find the motel carpet far more interesting. “It’s so stupid. I mean, I hunt demons for Christ’s sake.”

            “Logic didn’t stop your fear of clowns,” Dean replied with a smile in his voice.

            “Don’t you joke about that, Dean.”

            Dean’s chuckle was drowned out by another crash of thunder. When it finally rumbled away into the distance, Dean, on an impulse, lifted up his covers. Sam gave him a look that said ‘you have to be joking’ but Dean merely scooted himself back to give his brother some room. After a good minute of hesitation, Sam got out of his bed and crawled into Dean’s.

            “Not a word about this,” Sam warned, stifling a yawn.

            “No promises.” That earned a half-hearted shove at his shoulder. Sam’s hand lingered there for a moment before slipping off, his eyes closed and already beginning to drift.

            Dean felt his own eyes grow heavy, the offensive smell of the sheets now masked by the stronger scent of Sam, which meant home. Once Sam’s breathing had deepened and slowed, Dean brushed back the hair from his face and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

            “I’ll always protect you, Sam,” he whispered sleepily into the darkness before nestling closer to his brother’s warmth and falling asleep. 


End file.
